Pieces of Darkness
by D-Hadevir
Summary: Collection of drabbles about several characters and several moments in the story. I'll be uploading as I come up with them. Rating is now T, for language. Slowly adding up. Could use review-fuel.
1. I Dream

I dream. That's all I have. I dream and hope he knows I'm thinking of him and I'm still waiting.

I search for him every day. I can't find him, but I feel his presence. He's out there. So why doesn't he come back to me?

During the day, I live and laugh... but in the night's darkness, in the quiet solitude of my garden, I think of him and beg the Darkness to bring him back to me. I dream of what we lived, what I want us to live.

And I wait. Because I promised him I would.


	2. First Friend

Probing the area, Kaetien changed to a gallop. Something had triggered Sceval's protection spells. A stranger, yet... not entirely. Animal… Human. _Blood_.

He froze when he found a human foal staring at him, eyes wide and mouth open in wonder. Training demanded he charged, shock held him back.

_Witch!_ She had _finally_ come.

Ancient sapphire eyes, not quite human, lit up. "You're a unicorn!" She squealed.

He snorted, startled; pawed the ground. *I'm Prince Kaetien.*

She studied him; bowed her head. "Prince. I'm Jaenelle." Her voice held Darkness itself. Shyly, she reached out. He approached and gently nuzzled her hands.


	3. Brotherly Love

Lucivar burst the door open. "You're coming with me!"

Jaenelle dropped the brew she was preparing. Temper met temper. "You prick, look what you made me do!" She dodged him as he reached for her hand.

"I'm not even going to ask why you're not resting!" Furious, Lucivar assumed a fighting stance, his wings wide open. "But you're coming-"

"My moontime is almost over! Leave me alone, Lucivar!"

"Now!" he snarled, managing to grab her wrist. "Marian's in labor, we need you!"

She punched his shoulder, shouted, "And you only tell me now?" And took off before he could move.


	4. Broken

The mocking chuckles lingered after they left. She lay there, naked, hurt, bleeding. She was broken, empty inside, torn on the outside. If only the snickering and the disdainful words stopped smashing against her mind...

A blast of power; silence.

Someone came in. She shuddered at the rage creeping through the air.

"Lady." His voice was gentle. He knelt down beside her curled body, but didn't touch her. Dark power washed over her, warm, soothing. "It's over now. I'll take care of you."

Looking up, she found Sadi's cold eyes, filled with rage, sorrow... and kindness. She believed in him.


	5. Surrender

Daemon looked at the elegantly written message for a long time, his hands clenching the back of his chair. He should've gotten his brother before, but he'd hesitated, not sure the Eyrien would want to live a rogue's life, hiding, fighting Dorothea in the shadows.

Marcus walked in. "Prince, you called…"

"I'm leaving. I don't know when I'll come back, if ever, but make sure this place is always ready for those who seek its protection. I'll make sure the protection spells are kept."

"Prince… why? What's wrong?"

Grabbing his coat, Daemon walked towards the door. "That bitch has Lucivar."


	6. Conquering Fear

Wilhelmina looked at the Gate once more, the mist twirling as people passed through it. Then looked back at the door, biting her lower lip. Andrew gave her a reassuring smile.

The room was overcrowded. People were impatient, scared and desperate. If she tried to go back now, she'd probably be attacked by an angry mob.

Her hands quivered a little as she held Jaenelle's Sapphire Jewel tightly against her chest, as if it could protect her.

_Kaeleer._

She had to go; had to find her sister, make sure she was safe.

Swallowing her doubts, she stepped into the mist.


	7. Mediocre vs Horse Piss

"You're drunk."

"No, I'm not." Though, for some reason, words seemed to stumble a little on their way out. A snort came from the other side of the table. "Shut up, Prick," Daemon grumbled. "How could anyone get properly drunk with horse piss?"

"You're spoiled by your pretty court life, Bastard." Lucivar raised his own glass. "Granted, it's mediocre. But you haven't had horse piss until you've been in an Eyrien camp."

Daemon saw the challenge in Lucivar's eyes. The Prick wanted to play. Luckily, the Sadist was just looking for an excuse to come out and play as well.


	8. Safety

Daemon eased back from the kiss, tensing, unable to stop the memories from rising when his thoughts suddenly fled back to the past.

"What's wrong?" Jaenelle asked, frowning.

Where had those thoughts come from? Daemon looked around, needing to confirm he wasn't still in Terreille, wasn't still a pleasure slave; then looked into her sapphire eyes, filled with concern.

He belonged with her.

"Daemon?" She gently brushed his hair back.

He shook his head slowly. "It's alright…" Those days were gone now. Gone. "It's nothing." He wrapped his arms around her, seeking safety. Seeking love.

"Daemon..." Her voice held both.


	9. Twisted Kingdom

Slowly, hesitantly, taking several detours to show her something in feeble attempts to distract her, Tersa followed Jaenelle through shattered landscapes until they reached the border of the Twisted Kingdom. She'd indulged her, realizing Tersa wouldn't be able to go any further. She'd been there for too long to feel safe elsewhere.

Suddenly, Tersa took her hand. "Will you tell the boy? You have to, he worries…"

Jaenelle frowned. "What boy?"

"Mama!"

Jaenelle turned around. A younger Tersa stood in a cottage's doorway. A little boy ran into her arms, laughing.

_Daemon…_

That picture faded. Jaenelle smiled. "I'll tell him."


	10. Hayll's Whore

Sprawled lazily on the couch, Daemon swirled the glass of brandy as he looked out the window.

From here, he couldn't see Draega's buildings; only the full moon in a summer night sky sprinkled with stars. He could almost believe he was back home, with Manny.

The woman asleep on the bed stirred, shattering his momentary reverie. She was too focused on his naked body to notice the contempt and anger in his eyes, before he hid them behind an icy mask.

"Give me your best, slave."

The room grew colder; vanishing the glass, the Sadist rose. "As you wish."


	11. Private Garden

"Oh, Papa! What a wonderful garden!"

"I'll show you around," Daemon said softly.

That was when Jaenelle noticed the statue in the fountain.

"It's my friend!" She gasped, pointing. Running towards the closest statue, she studied its face. "She's beautiful, isn't she?"

"Yes, she was," he agreed, in a hoarse voice.

Jaenelle looked up, eyes wide. "Did she live here? Did you live with her?"

He made an effort to swallow the lump in his throat. "Yes. I lived here with her." He sat on the wooden seat facing the fountain. "Would you like to hear a story about her?"


	12. Anyone But Him

Daemon glided through the corridors, a heartbeat away from the killing edge. He'd left Lucivar on his bed, bleeding, his tortured body shaking from pain and exhaustion.

He barely knew the Eyrien. They'd met a few times, at most. But he cared for him, needed him, in a way he couldn't explain. They were drawn to each other. Too different to get along smoothly, but too alike to stay apart.

The sun would shine in Hell before he let them hurt him and get away with it.

He found Dorothea in her suite. Her nails desperately scratched her throat as phantom hands closed around it. The controlling ring on her hand drew his attention as the pain hit his groin.

"Bitch," he snarled, feeding off of the pain and hatred. The phantom hands tightened the grip.

"Sadi, wha- stop! Now!" she gasped, angry and terrified, trying to back away from him.

He leaned closer, seeing her through a red haze of rage and contempt. "Hurt him again and I will tear your court apart."

The pain was getting worse with each step, but he locked his bedroom door before kneeling at Lucivar's bedside, clutching his groin.

_Everything has a price._


	13. Learning to Fly

Lucivar clenched his teeth and closed his eyes.

He wouldn't mind teaching Jaenelle, but Daemon had been alarmingly blunt voicing his position about his daughter learning to fly at such a young age. But she'd been equally blunt - and disconcertingly inventive - voicing her own opinion about that specific rule.

"Look, Jaenelle, I'll talk to him again, alright?" Steeling his willpower to resist the puppy eyes, he opened his. "But I can't..."

She was gone. Frowning, Lucivar looked around; then up. His heart stopped.

Jaenelle waved at him from the highest branch of the highest tree.

"Mother Night!"

She jumped off.


	14. Second Thoughts

It took Peyton a minute after dropping off the Winds to question his decision. His Father had never lied to him. His Mother, though… Perhaps he should've let him explain.

Unfortunately, it took less than a minute for a guard to notice him. Before he had time to think clearly, he was being armed and rushed off to battle, along with dozens of warriors.

He looked around. Anger warred with fear. His love for his Father warred with the doubts Hekatah had nurtured so carefully. Instinct told him to return, honor and love told him to fight. For _her _safety.


	15. Hunting Camp

Lucivar struck, twirled, thrust, intent on his target. Each movement was fluid, balanced and perfectly linked with the next. Battle was a dance: it flowed through his bones, his muscles... his blood.

The other Eyrien boy fell on his back. Lucivar paused, grinning. "See, you're getting better." A mocking chuckle stopped them. Lucivar turned towards the sound.

"You call _that _a challenge?" Falonar snorted, gesturing towards the defeated boy.

"Are _you _a better challenge?"

Anger flashed in Falonar's eyes. "I'll make you eat dirt, halfbreed bastard!"

Falonar charged; Lucivar was ready. Someone ate dirt, moments later.

But it wasn't Lucivar.


	16. Hooked

The woman stepped out of the shadows: pretty face, malevolent eyes. She wasn't physically old, but her psychic scent… Ancient, almost decadent. As if she was…

"Yes, my darling. I belong to the Darkness." The woman's girlish voice and coquettish smirk looked odd, out of place.

She looked just like any other stuck up little aristo bitch. Dorothea already regretted coming here. She didn't bother hiding her impatience and disdain. "You said you wanted to make me an offer. I'm waiting."

The greedy gleam in those yellow eyes captured Dorothea's attention. "My darling Dorothea, I want to offer you Terreille."


	17. Typical Morning

Marian is cooking breakfast - the scents make him salivate -, Lucivar is outside enjoying the brisk mountain wind, grinning as he cooks up a plan to steal a spoonful of food while it's still in the pot, just to rile Marian up a little, and Daemonar- Where is Daemonar?!

"Lucivar Yaslana, get your ass in here now!" A loud BANG! comes from the house as some piece of furniture collapses, followed by excited giggling.

_Nevermind riling her up… she's already way past that point._

"DAEMONAR!" Lucivar growls, heading towards the house, steeling himself, thinking: _Just another typical morning at the Yaslana's._


End file.
